Miss Murder
by SherLoki in the TARDIS
Summary: When Sam and Dean decide to pick up a case, they meet a seemingly ordinary girl in a local diner. However, when Sam dreams her death, she becomes anything but ordinary to the Winchester boys, and she just might prove to be a powerful ally. Takes place sometime during Season 2. No slash. Winchesters and OC. Rated T just to be on the safe side.
1. Chapter 1

John Peters was walking home late at night. The streets of his Oregon town were now filled with fog, and the street lamps made the air around him orange. It seemed quiet enough, though it still made him nervous. There was something about that night, he couldn't really explain it, that made him not want to walk home. He had asked almost everyone at work if he could get a ride home, but none of them agreed. He even thought about staying at work for the night. But, by the end, it seemed as though he had no choice in the matter.

The fog was soaking through his thin jacket. He made a mental note to get a thicker one.

Another set of footsteps echoed through the dark. John glanced over his shoulder, but he didn't stop. Instead, he picked up the pace. Whoever was following him, he hoped he could out walk them. Besides, he was almost to his apartment. A few more blocks, and he wouldn't have to worry about anything.

The footsteps drew closer. He picked up his pace even more, until he was near sprinting. It was obviously a woman pursuing him. He could tell by the clicking of her heels on the pavement. The streetlights began to flicker, until finally they gave out. The darkness enveloped him.

John felt something grab his shoulder. He yelped, and turned his head.

"Hey, Honey," a female voice cooed. He recognized it immediately, "Did you miss me?"

"Get away from me!" John shouted, pushing the hand away.

"Oh, come now," it said sweetly, "That's no way to treat your girlfriend."

"You're not her," he said in horror, "You're a monster!"

She giggled. He saw the flash of a blade. He heard her heels click a few times on the concrete. He felt the knife pierce his skin,

and he fell to his knees on the sidewalk.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Dean," Sam Winchester said as he collapsed on the hotel bed, "Where have you been?"

"Oh, you know," his older brother said, setting a paper bag on the unoccupied bed, "Out. Hey, I picked up some doughnuts. Would you like one?"

"No thanks," Sam said as he closed his eyes.

"Come on, I got you your favorite," Dean said, swinging the bag slightly.

Sam lifted his head, "Chocolate frosting with sprinkles?"

Dean nodded. Sam sat up, and finally gave in. Dean tossed him the bag, and he opened it up viciously. He quickly grabbed a doughnut and tore into it, like a predator with his prey.

"Woah. Take it easy, Sammy," Dean said, backing away slowly, "It's just a doughnut."

"Oh please," Sam said, mouth full of chocolate frosted bread, "I see you act this way around pie all the time."

"That's different," Dean said, matter-of-factly.

"How so?"

"Because eating pie is the closest thing to a holy experience one can have. It's like angels frolicking on your taste buds."

"Do you hear yourself, Dean?" Sam said, smiling as he took another bite.

Dean chuckled to himself, then straightened up, "So, have you found anything interesting?"

"Uhh, yeah. Yeah I have," Sam said, picking himself off the bed. He grabbed a laptop and sat down in one of the chairs, "In Portland, Oregon, a man by the name of John Peters was found murdered a few blocks from his home. His throat was slit and there were cuts all over his body. Witnesses heard someone scream, followed by a, quote, 'monster-like wail'."

"And how exactly does it fit in our department," Dean asked, "You know, other than the wailing?"

"I'm not sure, but it's worth checking out," Sam said, "We've investigated a lot less."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You always say that," Dean said, collapsing on the other bed.

"Well, it's true," Sam said, "We have. Remember the time when we started an investigation just because some pretty girl at the bar told you that she heard a noise in her house one time?"

"Alright, point taken."

"Right, so, pack your things."

"Fine," Dean said, getting up, "But the next hotel we're in has to have a vibrating bed."

"NO."

"Why not?" Dean whined.

"Because you get addicted to those things," said Sam as he threw a few things into his bag, "And honestly, it gets a little creepy."

"No, I don't," Dean said, getting defensive.

Sam gave him a look that suggested otherwise. Dean shrugged it off as he fished through the paper bag and pulled out a doughnut.

"Whatever," Sam said, "just get packed. Check-out time is in an hour."

"Fine," Dean said with his mouth almost completely full.

"That's disgusting, Dean," Sam said with a look

Dean swallowed, "What? You did it, too."

"Yes, but my mouth wasn't that full," Sam said.

Dean walked up behind him with another doughnut, one that he had bought for Sam, and wrapped his arms around his brother's shoulders. Sam opened his mouth in protest, but was interrupted by the chocolate frosted doughnut covered with sprinkles being shoved into his mouth, followed by Dean saying, "Oh, Sammy. Shut your cakehole."

Sam reluctantly chewed on the doughnut, and took the remaining part of it out of his brother's hand. Dean smiled, then winced a little as soon as his brother's fist connected with his shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

It was around eleven when they drove into the city limits of Portland, Oregon. The sky was a slate-grey, and fog was covering the road. Metallica was playing through the Impala's speakers, but it didn't stop Sam from falling sound asleep in the passenger's seat.

Dean smiled to himself as he reached towards the volume nob. He placed his fingers around it and gave it a quick turn, making the music in the car as loud as it could go. Sam jumped as soon as the volume changed.

"Dean!" Sam yelled over the noise of the radio, "What the hell?!"

Dean laughed and turned the radio down, "You awake, Sammy?"

"I am now, Asshat!" Sam said, sitting up.

Dean laughed harder, "We're here."

"God," Sam groaned, rubbing his eyes, "What time is it?"

"Almost eleven," Dean said, still smiling.

Sam sighed in disbelief, shook his head, and glared at Dean.

"You hungry?" Dean asked.

"Not really," Sam said, still annoyed with what his brother had done.

"Good," Dean said, completely ignoring his brother's response, "'Cause I am."

Dean pulled into the nearest diner and stopped the car. Dean unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, "You coming?"

"Yeah." Sam said, "Yeah, just...just give me a moment."

"You okay, Sam?" Dean asked, growing worried.

"I would be if you didn't blare the radio," Sam said, smiling.

Dean grinned and got out of the car, and Sam followed suit. The brothers shut their doors simultaneously, and headed towards the entrance to the diner. Dean held out his hand and pushed the door open, holding it open for his little brother.

There was only two other people in the diner, other than Sam, Dean, and the staff. There was a man, roughly in his twenties, sitting at the counter. He wore a plaid, button up shirt and worn blue jeans. He had a thin face, a bit of a stubble, and dark brown eyes.

The other was a girl, sitting in one of the booths by herself, pouring over a book and drinking something out of a mug. She had medium length brown hair that became almost copper in the light. Sam smiled as he watched her reading her book, then frowned slightly. It almost looked like a hunter's journal, but he wasn't entirely sure.

Dean had taken notice of the girl, too, and elbowed Sam in the side and pointed to her. Dean smiled slightly and exchanged his gaze from her to Sam.

"What?" Sam asked, giving Dean a scrutinizing look.

"We should go talk to her."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"I dunno. She might know something...or...something."

Sam sighed and walked up towards the girl in the booth. Dean followed close behind.

"Hi," Sam said, waving slightly.

"Hi," she said, smiling at him. She took a napkin and putting it in her book as a bookmark and set the book by the window and looked at him.

"Um, I'm Sam," he said, extending his hand.

"Melanie," she said, shaking his hand.

Sam gestured towards the man behind him, "This is my brother, Dean."

"Hi, Melanie," Dean said, waving a little.

"Hi, Dean," she laughed.

"Do you mind if we sit down?" he asked.

"Sure," she grinned, and the two men slid in the seat across from her.

"So, Sam, Dean," She said, smiling, "You don't look like locals. Where are you from?"

Sam felt his face grow red, "We're from Kansas. What about you?"

She smiled, "Originally, from Iowa."

Dean nodded, "What brought you to Portland?"

She sighed, as though she was trying to find a good excuse for her being here, "A job. And you?"

"Same," he said, nodding.

"I see," Melanie said, and smiled. Both of the boys caught themselves smiling, too.

"Listen," Sam said, "We're looking for a friend of ours. Maybe...maybe you could help me find him?"

"Maybe," she said.

"Do you know a John Peters?" Dean asked.

"That name sounds familiar," Melanie said, frowning slightly, "Do you have a picture?"

"Yeah," Sam said, pulling out a printed copy from the online obituary. He handed it to the girl.

She took a deep breath, "Yeah...yeah, I know him. Though you should have gotten here sooner if you wanted to see him."

"Why?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"He...erm...passed away," she said, "About a week or so ago."

"Oh god," Sam said, with mock surprise, "What happened?"

"According to the papers," Melanie said, "he was mugged."

"That's terrible," Dean said, "How well did you know him?"

"We talked once or twice," Melanie said.

"Does he have any family we can contact," Sam asked, "to offer our condolences?"

"Umm...I think his brother lives in town, but I'm not entirely sure," Melanie said.

"So, Melanie," Dean said, leaning in slightly, "Have you noticed anything...weird...going on in town?"

"What do you mean by 'weird'?"

"I dunno. Strange noises, strange people, strange happenings. That sort of stuff."

She grinned, trying not to laugh, "No...no I haven't."

"What's so funny?" Sam asked.

"Nothing. It's just...it's not the first time I've had someone ask me that," Melanie said, still smiling.

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"Well, uh," Sam said, pulling out a pen and a napkin, "If that changes, would you mind giving us a call? The first number is my cell, and the second one is Dean's."

"Alright. If I notice anything...strange," she said, almost knowingly, "I'll let you know."

The two boys smiled, and got out of the booth.

"We'll...uh...we'll see you around, Melanie," Sam stuttered.

She laughed and waved. They turned around and walked towards the counter.

"Is it just me or was there something...odd about her," Sam asked as he sat down in one of the chairs.

"What do you mean?" Dean said as he followed suit.

"I dunno...It seemed like she was...like she was hiding something."

"Yeah...I guess she kind of did."

Sam gave Dean a judgmental look, "You didn't pay attention to a single word she said, did you? You were too busy checking her out."

"Since when is checking a girl out against the law?" Dean asked. As soon as he had asked that, the waitress behind the counter walked towards them.

"What can I get you boys?" the blonde girl asked.

"A double cheeseburger with extra onions, a slice of pie, and your number," Dean said with a smile.

The girl behind the counter giggled as she scribbled down Dean's order. Then she turned her attention to Sam, "And you?"

"A cheeseburger, please," Sam said, distractedly. His concentration was on Melanie, who had just walked out of the diner and across the street.

"Alright, coming up," the waitress said, winking at Dean.

"I'm beginning to like this town," Dean sighed contently. He adjusted himself on the stool and rested his elbows on the counter.

"Dean, we're not here on vacation, alright?" Sam said, "We're here on business."

"Sammy, you need to let go. See the sights, smell the roses," Dean said, clapping his brother hard on the back.

Sam rolled his eyes and grinned, "Alright...jerk."

Dean smirked, "Bitch."


	4. Chapter 4

_The girl from the diner rubbed the pendant on her necklace between her fingers as she walked through the dark, foggy streets. She sighed, waiting for something to happen. The sound of heels could be heard in the air. Melanie smirked._

_"__You know," a female voice called out, "It's dangerous for little girls to be alone at this time of night."_

_"__I could say the same thing," Melanie said, turning around to face the other woman._

_"__Long time, no see," the woman said, "eh, Melanie?"_

_"__I thought we agreed that you wouldn't come back," Melanie said._

_"__Yeah, well...I lied," the woman said, "I'm surprised you actually believed me."_

_"__I'll give you one more chance," Melanie said, her voice grave, "Leave now, and never come back."_

_"__Or what?" the woman cooed._

_Suddenly Melanie was holding a gun, "You know exactly what."_

_The woman laughed, "You wouldn't."_

_"__And what would happen if I did?" Melanie hissed._

_"__Well, for one thing, you could cherish the look of surprise on my face. But you know as well as I that it wouldn't do you any good."_

_Melanie smirked as she pocketed the gun and turned away, "Well, it was worth a shot."_

_The other woman grinned, "I knew you didn't have it in you. You're just like your father, you know. You're both weak."_

_"__Don't you dare talk about my father like that," Melanie growled._

_"__I thought we established that you're not going to do anything, no matter what I do."_

_"__Oh really?" Melanie said, still facing away from the other woman. She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a flask. She unscrewed the cap when she heard the footsteps grow closer to her._

_"__Of course," the woman said in Melanie's ear, "Because you know that, deep down, I'm still human. And you can't bear to kill a human."_

_Melanie spun on her heels and pored the contents of the flask on the other woman. The other woman howled in pain as steam billowed around her._

_"__Holy water, bitch," Melanie said, grinning like a madman. She quickly turned and ran in the opposite direction, but she didn't make it far._

_A silver flash appeared and found it's home within Melanie's back. She stopped as a look of sudden horror._

_The other woman's laugh echoed throughout the street as Melanie collapsed on the pavement._

_"__Just like your father," the woman said, kneeling down over Melanie. She pulled out the knife and walked away._

Sam sat up out of bed and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked out the window. It was early in the morning, probably around five o'clock.

"Hey, Sam," Dean said, sitting in the bed opposite him, "What's wrong?"

"It's that girl that we met at the diner...Melanie," Sam said, groaning, "I...I think she's in trouble."

"What? Why?"

"I...I dreamt her death," he said, shaking his head.

"Woah, slow down there, Sammy," Dean said, "Are you sure it was her?"

Sam nodded, "It was her."

"What happened?"

"She was attacked. In the street. Like the first guy," Sam said, "But she tried to fight it. I think...I think she might be a hunter."

"She didn't look like one," Dean said.

"She knew that that thing that attacked Peters was a demon, and she had holy water with her," Sam said, slightly angry.

"Alright. Well...maybe it hasn't happened yet."

"I don't think it has," Sam said, "Otherwise we probably would have heard something about it."

The sound of police sirens were heard from outside their hotel room. They listened as the noise increased, and then decreased as it passed the hotel.

Sam gave Dean a worried look, and Dean sighed, "Fine. We'll go check it out, just to make sure."


	5. Chapter 5

Sam and Dean walked towards one of the officers at the crime scene, trying to make themselves look like they were supposed to be there. It wasn't too hard, for they've had a lot of practice with invading crime scenes.

"Uh, hi there," Dean said to the man as he pulled out his fake ID from his innermost coat pocket, "I'm Detective Harrison, and this is my partner, Detective Lennon. We're from the FBI."

"Hm," the officer said, "I didn't think this was important enough for the FBI."

"Do you mind telling us what happened?" Sam asked.

"We believe it was a mugging," the man said, gesturing them to follow. He lifted up the tape to allow Sam and Dean to cross. There was an African American man, about fifty years old, lying spread-eagle on the pavement. Dean turned to see a look of relief spread across Sam's face. Though, it quickly vanished when Dean elbowed him and gave him a look that silently told Sam to knock it off.

"Any ID?" Dean asked.

"Not at the moment," the policeman said, "Not until we send him to the lab."

"Is there anything unusual about this incident," Sam said, "You know, from what you can gather?"

"The only thing that's really odd is this," the officer said, kneeling down beside the body. He lifted up the shirt to reveal a menagerie of shapes and designs carved into the man's back.

Dean winced, "That must've hurt."

"Yeah, no kidding," the officer said, grimacing, "As of now, we can't tell whether or not this was postmortem or what exactly happened to him."

Sam nodded, "We understand that you've had a similar incident to this one a couple of weeks ago?"

"Yeah," the man said, "We're still a bit unsure of those details as well. They seem similar, remarkably so."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"Well, witnesses said that they heard the same thing that was heard during the other mugging," the officer said, "a scream followed by an inhuman wail."

Dean nodded, "Thanks officer. If you don't mind, we'd like to have a look around the crime scene ourselves."

"Go for it," the officer laughed, "I'm pretty sure we've gotten everything we've needed."

Sam smiled, "Thanks. We'll let you know if we need anything else."

"Okie dokie," he said, then began walking towards another officer.

Dean watched the officer walk out of earshot before he broke out of character, "Well, he seemed nice."

"Yeah," Sam said, "at least the victim's not Melanie."

"What's the deal with her, anyway," Dean asked. He sighed when Sam gave him a confused look.

"You know," Dean said, trying to get Sam to answer without really asking anything, "Do you like her?"

"She seems nice."

"Would you like to...uhh...get to know her better? If you catch my drift."

"No, Dean." Sam said, "I'm just worried about her. I mean, I dreamt about her death. That usually means it has something to do with the yellow-eyed demon or about other psychics."

"And?"

"And I didn't predict this guy's death," Sam said, worriedly, "Which means that Melanie might have something to do with this demon. She might be a psychic...like me."

Dean nodded, but his attention wasn't fully on Sam. Something else had caught his attention.

"Are you even listening to me?" Sam said, angrily.

"Yeah, yeah. Diner chick might be a freak. Sam, come look at this," Dean said as he knelt down next to the body. Sam followed suit.

"She's not a freak...and what am I supposed to be looking at," Sam said irritably. Dean pointed to a pile of yellow powder at his feet.

"Is that what I think it is?" Sam asked, squinting in disbelief.

"Yep. That's one big ass pile of sulfur," Dean said, letting out a low whistle.

"So, definitely a demon, then?" Sam asked.

"Oh yeah," Dean nodded, standing back on his feet and holding out his hand. Sam grabbed hold of it and, with a tug, they were both on their feet.

After talking with the officer once more, they began walking away from the crime scene.

"So, what do we do now?" Sam asked.

Dean smiled. He loved it when his little brother, the college geek, asked him questions like that. It gave him a sense of superiority.

"Well," Dean said, "We find this demon and exorcise it before anything happens to the diner girl."

Sam nodded, "But what if she gets killed tonight?"

"Then, we keep our eyes open. Find out where she lives, and stake out her place."

Sam smiled a little.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said, wrapping his arm around his brother's shoulder as best he could, "Don't worry about it. We're going to save this girl. You have my word."


	6. Chapter 6

They pulled into the quiet hotel parking lot. It wasn't dark yet, for they still had a few hours before the sun set, but they really didn't have much to do until then. They had already talked to John Peters's family, but the information they brought up was fairly useless. The only thing that the boys found that might be useful was the fact that he had broken up with his girlfriend a few days before, claiming that she had "changed", but other than that, it was just junk.

Dean sighed as he started to turn the keys to the Impala. He closed his eyes, and listened to the sound of AC/DC quietly working it's way throughout the car.

"Dean?" Sam asked.

"Yeah?"

"Mind opening the car door?"

"Oh," Dean said, turning the keys in the ignition. The humming of the engine died and the radio cut off.

"You okay, Dean?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine. You know, I should be the one asking you if you're doing okay."

"Why?"

"Well, you're the one with the freaky, weirdo dreams that occasionally come true."

"True."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So are you okay?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam said after a while, "Yeah. I'm fine."

Dean smiled and elbowed his brother, "Great. Now, we have a few hours to kill before we find out where diner chick lives, so I'm gonna go take a nap."

Sam rolled his eyes and smiled as he watched his brother shut the car door and head towards their hotel room. The smile soon changed as he saw Melanie, the girl from the diner, walk towards a room a little farther from theirs. Sam quickly got out of the car.

"Hey, Melanie!"

"Oh. Hi...Sam," Melanie said, smiling a little as Sam jogged up to her.

"I didn't know you were staying here," Sam said, trying to hide just how much this surprised him.

"Oh, yeah," Melanie said, "I take it you are, too?"

"Yeah."

"You're not stalking me, are you?" the girl joked.

He smirked, "Of course not."

She laughed a little, "So, have you talked to the Peters yet? You know, to 'give your condolences'?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, we just finished with that," Sam said.

"Did you hear about the other person they found?" Melanie asked, trying to make conversation.

"Yeah. We, uh, saw the police tape on the way to see John's family," Sam said, "Do you...do you have any idea what happened?"

"I'm assuming it's another mugging," Melanie said, "They haven't released anything to the public."

Sam nodded, then looked at her, "Listen, I was wondering...would you...would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

"Um...yeah, sure. That sounds fine," Melanie said.

"Great, that's–" He stopped when he heard the voice of Dean calling from behind.

"Hey, Sam! You coming in or not?"

"Hang on a second," Sam said to Melanie, then walked towards Dean. Dean peaked around his brother to see the girl from the diner standing by her door. She gave Dean a little wave.

"Is that Melanie?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Apparently, she's staying here."

"Well, isn't that convenient," Dean said, grinning.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam said, "I asked her out to dinner. I'm thinking...maybe–"

"Hey, if you want to leave me hanging for the classy diner chick, then that's fine," Dean said, putting his hand on his shoulder, "You have my blessing."

"Dean," Sam said, giving Dean a look that Dean liked to call his "bitch face", "This isn't about sex or starting a relationship with her. I'm completely focusing on the case. I just think that maybe I can get more information out of her. And, if she's with me, she'll be safe."

Dean giggled, "Sure. Whatever."

Sam glanced back towards Melanie, "I'll call you if I need anything."

"Use protection!" Dean called jokingly after Sam, who was walking towards the girl. And, after thoroughly embarrassing Sam, he slipped into the hotel room.

"Sorry about that," Sam said, trying to cover the red in his face. He was failing miserably.

She giggled, "That's fine. So, erm, I'll...see you tonight then?"

"Yeah. Is eight okay with you?"

"Sounds perfect," she smirked, "I know a place we can eat. I could give you the name and we can meet there."

Sam wanted to tell her no, that he would just pick her up and take her there. He wanted to tell her that it would be easier if they did it that way. Instead, he said, "Sure. That sounds fine."

Sam watched as she pulled out a slip of paper and a pen from her pocket and scribbled down the name. She folded it in fourths and handed him the little square of paper.

"Great. I'll see you then."

She nodded as she slipped the key into her door. She quickly unlocked and opened it, then looked at Sam, "Bye, Sam."

"Bye," he said as she slipped through the door. He thought he had seen papers and maps on the wall, covered in red thumbtacks and string, but she had shut the door too fast before he could make sure.

He walked back to his room, asking himself what he had just done. Was he really focusing on the case? She was pretty...and intelligent...and kind...and she may have an understanding of what's really out there. He wouldn't have to keep his job from her, because she might already know about the supernatural.

He stopped and shook his head. He couldn't afford to get into a relationship with anyone. Not after what happened to Jessica. He wasn't ready for that.

Sam sighed as he put his hand on the door. He pressed his head against the wood and closed his eyes, still trying to figure out why exactly he had asked her to dinner.

He opened the door and saw Dean sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep. Sam smiled to himself as he shut the door. He sat down on the bed next to Dean's and began figuring out what he was going to do.


	7. Chapter 7

"Dean," Sam said, shaking his brother's shoulder, "Dean, wake up."

Dean moaned as he opened his eyes, "Damn it, Sam. What time is it?"

"Seven thirty," he said, with a worried look on his face, "Listen, Dean. It's about Melanie. I need you to give me a ride."

"Sam, you're a grown man. You don't need me to chaperone you and your little girlfriend on a date."

"Listen to me, Dean," he said, "I might need your help with this."

Dean sat up, "Sam...I'm not going to give you dating advice! You should know what to do! You managed to get Jess to sleep with you, after all."

"It's not about that," Sam said, "She's walking to the restaurant. Alone. And it's dark. It's about as dark as it was when I dreamt her death. I think we ought to tail her just in case something happens on the way there."

"Man," he said, rubbing his forehead, "You're really going all out with this girl, aren't you?"

Sam sighed, "Please, Dean. Just...just trust me on this,"

Dean looked at Sam and sighed. He could tell that Sam was really worried about this, that he was deeply concerned with this one girl. It almost looked like Sam was giving him puppy dog eyes. Dean sighed.

"Damn it, Sam. Fine. Fine, I'll help you, but if nothing happens, you won't hear the end of this."

Sam smiled, "Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dean said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, "You owe me."

Sam laughed, and walked out the door. He walked to the trunk of the Impala and made it seem as though he were rummaging through things in the back. He glanced over to her room and saw walking out and making her way across the parking lot. Sam remained silent, hoping that the dark concealed him enough where she wouldn't suspect him of stalking her. She made her way across the parking lot towards the sidewalk. He watched her until she was lost amongst the trees that outlined the motel.

Sam shut the trunk and ran inside their room.

"She left," Sam said when entered the room again. Dean pulled himself off the bed and walked out the door, Sam following at his heels. They both popped open the trunk and lifted open the bottom door which revealed an well stocked, supernatural-killing arsenal. They each took what they needed and shut both lids of the trunk. It almost surprised Sam how fluid the motion was, preparing ones self for battle. It almost terrified him. When he went with Dean to avenge Jess's death, he didn't expect that he would turn into this.

The boys quickly jumped in the Impala's cab. Dean turned the car on, and Sam was so on edge that it nearly startled him when the engine roared to life. They pulled out of the parking lot, their tires squealing on the pavement. Once they were heading in the direction that Melanie had gone, things seemed to have gotten calmer.

"Sam," Dean said, looking at his brother who was still slightly panicking, "It'll be okay, alright? We'll stop this. Nothing's going to hurt her."

"How do you know, Dean, huh?" Sam said, anger rising in his voice, "How do you know that she's going to be okay?"

"Well, I can see her walking now," Dean said, slowing the car down. Sam sat up, and saw exactly what he was talking about. There was Melanie, walking on the street, as though she wasn't about to die. Sam sighed in relief.

"I wouldn't get to comfy yet, Sammy," Dean said, turning down the radio. He then pointed to a figure walking behind Melanie. They pulled over to the other side of the road and waited.

Melanie rubbed the pendant on her necklace between her fingers as she walked through the dark, foggy streets. She could feel the pentagram indented on the smooth surface. She knew that, at the center of it had a cross. It was her father's creation, something that was designed to protect her no matter what

It was made of a silver-iron alloy that her father had tried experimenting with, then finally succeeded in making. The pentagram was hand-engraved by him, and her father also managed to have a pastor bless it before he gave it to her. He figured it would make an impenetrable protection from almost anything.

She thought back to when her father first gave her the necklace, but she had a difficult time focusing on it, due to the uneasy feeling that she was getting. It seemed like something was following her. She sighed, waiting for something to happen. The sound of heels could be heard in the air. Melanie smirked.

"You know," a female voice called out, "It's dangerous for little girls to be alone at this time of night."

"I could say the same thing," Melanie said, turning around to face the other woman.

"Long time, no see," the woman said, "eh, Melanie?"

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't come back," Melanie said.

"Yeah, well...I lied," the woman said, "I'm surprised you actually believed me."

"I'll give you one more chance," Melanie said, her voice grave, "Leave now, and never come back."

"Or what?" the woman cooed.

Suddenly Melanie was holding a gun, "You know exactly what."

The woman laughed, "You wouldn't."

"And what would happen if I did?" Melanie hissed.

"Well, for one thing, you could cherish the look of surprise on my face. But you know as well as I that it wouldn't do you any good."

Melanie smirked as she pocketed the gun and turned away, "Well, it was worth a shot."

The other woman grinned, "I knew you didn't have it in you. You're just like your father, you know. You're both weak."

"Don't you dare talk about my father like that," Melanie growled.

"I thought we established that you're not going to do anything, no matter what I do."

"Oh really?" Melanie said, still facing away from the other woman. She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a flask. She unscrewed the cap when she heard the footsteps grow closer to her.

"Of course," the woman said in Melanie's ear, "Because you know that, deep down, I'm still human. And you can't bear to kill a human."

Melanie spun on her heels and pored the contents of the flask on the other woman. The other woman howled in pain as steam billowed around her.

"Holy water, bitch," Melanie said, grinning like a madman. She quickly ran in the opposite direction. She felt a hand grab on to her wrist and pull her across the street. There was the sound of a gun going off, and a shriek of pain.

"Let go of me!" Melanie cried, trying to pull her hand free.

"Oh crap!" she heard someone call from behind. She heard the heavy footsteps of someone running behind her.

"Run run run run run!" she heard a male voice shout as a figure ran past her. He quickly opened the door of a black car and threw himself inside. The person who had their hold on Melanie opened the back door and pushed her in, quickly shutting the door behind her. The engine sprang to life and the headlights came on, showing Sam running across the front of the car. The passenger side opened and Sam flung himself in and shut the door, and the car sped away.

"Sam?! Dean?!" Melanie asked angrily, "What the hell?"

"Look, I can explain," Sam said, turning to face her, "It's just that–"

"Sammy here dreamt your death," Dean said. Sam glared at him, and Dean looked at Sam as though he had no clue what he had done wrong.

"Your joking?" Melanie asked, her eyes widening.

"It's true, Melanie," Sam said quietly. He felt his face grow red. He looked towards Dean, who, it had seemed, had just realized what he had done wrong.

Melanie ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, "Let me guess. It started about two year ago with headaches and regular nightmares...and then it became this."

"How did you know?" Sam asked, a bit worried.

"Because it's happened to me, too," Melanie said, quieter than Sam had, which made the words seem to hang heavily in the air.

The car was silent for a moment, then Melanie added light heartedly, "Not to mention, I've ran into others who are dealing with the same thing."

"Wait...you know of others?" Dean asked.

"Sort of...I've met a few, but I keep learning that they've died," Melanie said.

Dean looked back at her, aided by the rearview mirror, "What's you're name?"

"I told you, it's Melanie."

Sam said, "What's your last name?"

She sighed, "It's Colt. Melanie Colt."

Sam tried running that name through his head. Melanie Colt...Melanie Colt...Why did it sound so familiar to him?

"Like the gun?" Dean asked.

She nodded, "What about you?"

"Winchester," Sam said, "Sam and Dean Winchester."

"As in John Winchester?" She asked.

The car came to a near sudden stop. Dean looked back at her with a mixture of emotions in his eyes, "How do you know about our dad?"

"Well, he's kind of famous, as far as hunters go," she said, "And I've had the pleasure of working with him a couple of times. He was a good friend of my father's. He and a few other hunters kind of took me under their wings when my dad...when my dad couldn't."

The two brothers nodded solemnly. Dean pushed the accelerator and the Impala began moving once more.


	8. Chapter 8

The rest of the car ride was quiet. Not a word was spoken between the people in the car, for each had something different on their minds, and needed to think it over.

The car quietly pulled into the parking lot of the motel and stopped once it was outside the door to Sam and Dean's room. The car's engine cut off, and the boys looked back towards her.

"You should probably stay with us tonight," Dean said, "In case that demon tries to kill you again."

"What," Melanie said, "You don't think I can handle myself?"

"Well," Dean said, "Beings we had to come in and save your ass tonight...yeah. We don't think you can handle yourself at the moment."

She looked at Sam, who nodded. His eyes were full of concern.

Melanie sighed, then smiled, "Fine. Whatever works."

They got out of the car and walked to the door of the motel room.

"Wait," Melanie said, and the two boys turned around.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Mind if I get some stuff from my room?" She said, pointing in the general direction of her room, "It won't take me very long."

"I'll come with you," Sam said. Dean smiled and gave Sam a knowing glance.

Melanie smiled and walked towards her room. Sam elbowed Dean in the ribs and followed after Melanie.

"So," Sam said, shutting the door to Melanie's hotel room, "How long have you been hunting?"

"Officially? A few years ago, after my freshman year of college. I used to travel with my dad, when he went on hunting trips."

"How long has he been in the business," Sam asked, sitting on the bed as he watched her throw some things into a bag.

"He'd been hunting as long as I can remember," Melanie said, "He said he started a year or so after my mom died."

"How long has that been."

"Twenty-two years. She died in a fire that started in my nursery."

Sam's eyes widened. He looked at her, but she wasn't paying attention. "How old were you?" he asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

"Six months," Melanie said as she walked into the bathroom, "After she died, my father tried adjusting to a life without her. That is, until he ran into your father. They were friends in the Marines, and they went to highschool together. When your dad found about what happened to my mother, he told my dad what was really out there. He taught my father everything he knew at the time, gave him contacts, and even helped him in a few hunts."

Sam nodded, then stopped. He realized why Melanie Colt sounded so familiar. His mind flashed back to when they were kids, when both of their fathers were hunting together, she would stay in the room with Sam and Dean, waiting for their dads to return. He remembered them playing when they were little and talking when they were older. He remembered that she'd abruptly stopped staying in their hotel room, and he'd never heard from her since.

"Alright," Melanie said, throwing the bag over her shoulder, "Let's go."

Sam nodded and smirked slightly as he opened the door. He held it open with one hand, waiting for Melanie to go though. She thanked him and slipped out the door. Sam let go and walked behind her as he waited for her to lock the door. Once that was done, they made their way to the boy's hotel room.


End file.
